Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

Chapter 140

140 Chapter 140

Seraphina’s POV 1

The Morrison house looked exactly the same as I remembered from before visits–white clapboard siding with forest green shutters, a wraparound porch lined with hanging flower baskets, and that old wooden swing.

“They’re gonna lose their minds,” Caleb said again as we pulled into the gravel driveway. “Mom’s been cooking since I called. Pretty sure

she made enough food to feed the entire pack.”

I managed a weak smile.

He turned off the engine and looked at me with those kind blue eyes. “You ready for this?”

*No.* I wasn’t ready for anything.

But I nodded anyway.

The front door burst open before we even made it up the porch steps.

“Seraphina!”

Margaret appeared in the doorway like a force of nature–gray hair in a messy bun, flour–dusted apron, arms already outstretched for a

hug. Behind her, Robert emerged with that gentle smile I remembered so well.

“Oh my goodness, look at you!” Margaret pulled me into one of those bone–crushing hugs that only mothers could give. “You’re skin and

bones! Haven’t they been feeding you in that fancy city?”

“Mom,” Caleb warned gently. “Let her breathe.”

“Don’t you ‘Mom‘ me, Caleb Morrison.” But she released me, her weathered hands moving to cup my face. “Let me look at you properly.”

I tried to smile, tried to pretend her maternal concern wasn’t making my chest ache with longing for something I’d never really had. “Hi,

Mrs. Morrison. It’s good to see you.”

“None of this Mrs. Morrison nonsense. You’re family, sweetheart. Always have been.” Her eyes–so much like Caleb’s–searched my face

with motherly worry. “You look tired, honey. When’s the last time you had a decent meal?”

“I ate on the bus-”

“Bus food doesn’t count.” She was already herding me toward the front door. “Robert, get her bags. Caleb, wash up. I’ve got pot roast in

the oven and fresh biscuits cooling on the counter”

the house was exactly as I remembered.

of home

the living room. “We turned Caleb’s old room into Robert’s workshop, and the guest room is full of Christmas

is perfect,” I

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140 Chapter 140

from her garden, chattering about local gossip

yours?” she asked, passing me the butter for my third

to my mouth. “They’re…

face lit up. “I bet they’re beautiful. Do they have your

has mine and Damien’s mixed together–blue–green like

“They’re perfect,” I whispered.

voice because she reached over to pat

are.”

weather, local news, Caleb’s auto shop. I contributed what I

my mind

now? Was Damien home, or was he still at the office, drowning himself in work

thinking about me?

asked about

me back to the

tired,” I lied. “It’s

it has, sweetheart.” Margaret was already standing, clearing dishes with motherly efficiency. “You must be exhausted.

you get settled while us old folks clean

“I can help-”

living room. “You’re a guest in this house. Guests don’t

and “sleep well, honey” and promises of pancakes for breakfast,

alone in

up the couch with pillows and blankets, even found an old stuffed animal from somewhere and placed it carefully by

you,” I said quietly. “For all of this. I know

He settled into his father’s old recliner, studying my face with those perceptive blue eyes. “You haven’t told

told you, I

voice was gentle but firm. “I’ve known you since we were kids. You don’t run to other people when handle it yourself. So whatever brought you to

you

have trouble. You

folded in my lap like a prayer. “I don’t even know

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140 Chapter 140

“Start wherever feels right.”

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